


The Witch

by clementwillow



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clementwillow/pseuds/clementwillow
Summary: The Nein try to break a curse in this retelling of the events in C2E93, told like a fairy tale.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	The Witch

At the base of a mountain, there once lived an ancient witch fabled to grant any wish. Her hut lay protected by a forest of terrors she conjured to keep all but the most desperate folk at bay. However, if they withstood her dangers, she allowed them to enter her home. There she offered her boons and presented her price. If accepted, the witch always fulfilled her promises and always came to collect her debt. 

One night, two people bound to deals she once made arrived at her door. One, a halfling woman the witch cursed to a goblin form. The other, a human whose family was granted riches in exchange for their happiness. The goblin and her companions sought to break her curse, but the witch demanded a price equal to the suffering the curse beget.

“What will you offer me in exchange?” asked the witch. 

“I offer you my loyalty. I will bind myself to your will and do your bidding, no matter the task,” said the half-orc.

“I offer you my isolation. I will turn my back on the people I love and retreat into exile for as long as I live,” said the human.

“I offer you a war. I will thwart attempts at peace between two nations and bring chaos to thousands of people,” said the goblin. 

“I offer you my memories. I will abandon my fond keepsakes of those I have loved and lost,” said the aasimar.

The witch curled her lips as she considered their sacrifices. Blind loyalty is dangerous and can lead to much suffering, especially when given so recklessly. Isolation is heart-rending when one holds their loved ones so tenderly in their heart. War is devastating and far-reaching, even if one is not doing battle. Fond memories, when lost, sever one’s ties to the world, especially for those who have already lost so much. 

The witch savored the taste of each sacrifice on her tongue. All the gifts pleased her, but the offerers wavered. One by one, she tempted them to give up what they held most dear, and one by one they left empty-handed. The witch grew hungry in her hut, her appetite growing with each promise of a meal. But the night was not yet done. She could smell the desperation of the troupe outside her door. They would not leave without making an exchange just like all the other fools who landed on her doorstep. A devil’s child entered her hut next. The witch licked her lips. 

“We wish to break a curse you once cast,” said the girl with a smile. 

The witch hunched over her new guest. “What will you offer me in exchange?”

“I offer you my craft. I will relinquish my gift to create art and music.” The girl extended her pretty hands. “Sever my hands to never be restored.”

One’s craft, when taken, robs them of their ability to give their life meaning. The girl examined her fingers, the beginnings of doubt tugging at the corners of her smile. The witch observed the foolish girl and her unfettered joy. Her scent was different. Not desperate like the rest of her companions. No, she was something far more delicious. Innocent. The witch salivated at the thought of draining every last drop of happiness out of her. 

“This offering pleases me. Do you accept this deal?” asked the witch.

Proclaiming that she wanted to make use of her hands for the last time, the girl procured a pastry from her bag. She shared the pastry with the witch who cackled at her naive generosity. But the devil’s child was much cleverer than she seemed, for she had sprinkled the confection with magic dust. As the witch chewed with her long yellowed teeth, she became so consumed with thoughts about how she would plague the girl that she did not notice the spell she whispered under her breath. Thoughts of torture were replaced with goodwill. The company of the girl and her companions suddenly seemed like the finest gift of them all, and the pastry was a delicious meal. With a wave of her hand, the witch dispelled the goblin’s curse and happily bade her farewell. 

The deal done, the girl rushed out of the witch’s hut, but her troupe was filled with dread. What had she sacrificed, they wondered. Was it free will, family, peace, or memories? But the girl had lied and tricked her way out of suffering because she knew happiness should never come at a price. 


End file.
